THE UNDERESTIMATED HEIR

THE COST OF DEFIANCE

Daniel’s fingers hovered over the edges of the papers, with a mocking smile playing on his lips as he skimmed through Marvin’s meticulously detailed calculations, theories and notes.

“Marvin, Marvin…” Daniel mused, with a voice that was dripping with false admiration. “You’ve really put a lot of effort into all this, haven’t you?” His eyes darted across the pages, but the cold glint in them betrayed his true intentions.

He picked up one sheet, holding it between his hands, as if savoring its fragility. “I wonder how it would feel to tear it in half,” he said, his tone was mocking, and lips curled into a twisted grin.

“Daniel, don’t,” Marvin warned, his voice was firm but it was tinged with desperation. “Those papers... they’re my life's work. You don’t understand what you’re about to destroy.”

Daniel’s gaze flicked up, his expression shifted from fake curiosity to a cold, brutal indifference. “Oh, I understand perfectly.” He sneered, his grip tightened on the paper. “What you see as years of hard work, I see as trash. Worthless.”

Before Marvin could move, Daniel’s hands jerked. The first sheet tore in two with a sharp, deliberate rip. The sound cut through the room, and each tear was like a knife driving deeper into Marvin’s chest.

“No!” Marvin bellowed, lunging forward. His heart pounded, and his pulse roared in his ears. He couldn’t let Daniel destroy everything—everything he had poured his soul into.

But just as Marvin reached for the papers, a blinding, searing pain shot through his head. He staggered, crumpling to his knees, clutching his skull.

Daniel’s Synapticore mark, the twisted gift that pulsed with eerie, alien energy, glowed faintly on his forehead.

A sickly skyblue light radiated from it, and Marvin felt its sinister influence course through his mind, scrambling his thoughts and scattering his focus.

“You see, Marvin…” Daniel’s voice was almost soothing now, dripping with condescension. “You never stood a chance. Your research? Your equations? They were always irrelevant. And with this mark...” He tapped his forehead, with the glow intensifying for a moment. “Your so-called genius is obsolete. The company needs me, not your dusty theories.”

Marvin’s vision blurred from the pain, but he forced himself to look up. His father, Mr. Richmond, stood unmoved, as his arms were crossed.

There was no flicker of concern, no hesitation in his eyes. Marvin wasn’t his son—not anymore. He was just a failure. A liability.

The tearing continued. Page after page, Marvin’s life’s work was shredded into ribbons before his eyes, each rip a was sound of finality.

With the last sheet torn, Daniel let the scraps fall to the floor like confetti, and a sick grin of triumph plastered across Daniel's his face. “Now, what will you do?” he asked, his voice was low, and mocking.

Marvin, who was still on his knees, struggled to breathe. His vision swam from both the physical pain and the weight of loss.

His research lay in tatters, a lifetime’s worth of ideas, theories, and innovation were suddenly reduced to nothing.

He could do nothing but watch as Daniel turned away, carelessly stepping over the shredded remains of Marvin’s work.

"I... I promise you, Daniel," Marvin whispered, with a hoarse voice that was barely audible. “You’ll pay for this.”

Daniel paused, turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder. His smirk widened. “I’d love to see you try. But face it, Marvin—you’re incapable of anything that matters. You never were.”

With a swift motion, Daniel delivered a sharp kick to Marvin’s stomach, sending him sprawling across the floor. “Ugh!” Marvin grunted, as the wind was knocked out of him.

“Enough, Daniel,” Mr. Richmond finally spoke, his voice was sharp and commanding. “We’ve wasted enough time here. Let’s go. We have real business to attend to.”

Daniel straightened, casting one final, derisive glance at Marvin. “Yes, Dad.” He turned, joining Martha and the children who stood watching, detached, from the doorway.

Martha's gaze didn’t linger on Marvin for long—her eyes were cold, empty, like she had never known him at all.

As they moved to leave, Mr. Richmond lingered a moment, his eyes narrowed as he looked down at Marvin, who lay on the floor, gasping for air.

“In forty-eight hours, I want you out of this house. Permanently.” His tone was measured, each word was heavy with finality.

He took a step closer, and his voice dropped lower. “And one more thing—about that incident at the Mayor’s Bite restaurant. I turned a blind eye the first time you provoked Daniel, but it seems you’re incapable of controlling yourself. I now consider you a threat—to my son and to the future of my company, try that one more time, and you would like what I would do to you.”

Marvin blinked through the pain, trying to process the words, but his mind reeled.

After everything they had done to him—after stealing his family, his work, his dignity—he was the threat?

Mr. Richmond leaned in, his voice was as cold as ice. “Effective immediately, you are no longer my son. And your mother—well, she’s no longer welcome either. The divorce papers have already been signed.”

Marvin felt a new kind of pain sear through him, deeper than any slap, any kick, any humiliation.

His mother—cast aside, just like him. He wanted to scream, to shout, to fight—but no words came. His throat felt like sandpaper, dry and raw. He was utterly alone.

Richmond’s lip curled in disdain. “You may have some use elsewhere, but for me? You’ll always be useless.”

With that, Mr. Richmond turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving Marvin in a deafening silence. The door clicked shut, the finality of it echoed through the empty house.

Marvin lay there for several minutes, his body was trembling, his mind began to spin. The physical pain would fade, but the hollowness inside him—the destruction of everything he held dear—felt like an abyss he could never crawl out of.

With great effort, he pulled himself to his feet, stumbling toward the bathroom.

The cold water splashed over his face, momentarily shocking him back to clarity. But the burning anger within him remained. It smoldered, waiting to erupt.

He dried his face and, with a trembling hand, he reached for his phone.

He dialed a number.

“Hello, Gideon,” he said, his voice was tight.

“Mr. Marvin? How are you?” Gideon’s voice came through, warm, and familiar.

“I don’t have time for pleasantries,” Marvin snapped, his usual gentleness was gone. His patience was gone. “I have a new directive.”

Gideon hesitated, surprised by the abrupt change in tone. “Yes, sir… What would that be?”

“Effective immediately, cut off all supplies of iron and aluminum to Richmond Tech Group.”

There was a pause. “What? Sir… you’re aware how much your company stands to lose if you stop those shipments? The contract—”

“Do it,” Marvin interrupted, his voice was cold and final. “Richmond Tech Group has no further claim on those materials.”

Gideon’s voice wavered with shock. “But sir… The entire company relies on—"

“I know exactly what it relies on,” Marvin said, his voice steady was now, a quiet storm was brewing beneath. “Do it.”

For the first time in his life, Marvin felt control slipping back into his hands. The supply chain, something his father never bothered to learn about, was under his thumb, he was the key to those shipments, and now, he would squeeze. Hard.

Gideon remained silent on the other end, clearly grappling with what Marvin had ordered. “Understood, sir,” he finally said.

Marvin hung up the phone, his eyes turned hard, resolute. His father thought he was useless. Daniel believed he’d won.

They were wrong.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.